


Some kind of family

by bloodandcream



Series: The more the merrier [75]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Dean, Castiel and Hannah are married and have a kid, Dean in Panties, Domme Hannah, F/M, Massage, Pegging, Polyamory, cross-couple, the explicit sex in this is between Dean and Hannah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:25:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9359135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: Hannah sets her heels neatly by the door, and pulls a hanger down from the small rack next to it, actually hanging up her jacket. Her own toy-bag gets set next to Dean’s on the desk. She’s still got an air of frazzled hurry.When she turns around to face Dean, coming to stand a foot in front of him and unbuttoning her shirt, Hannah tells him, “Strip.”Straight to the point. It might be her style, but it’s not Dean’s. So instead he stands up, puts his hands over hers and draws them away, unbuttons her shirt more slowly. “Relax sweetheart. We got time.”





	

Pulling on his best casual not-trying-too-hard shirt - the purple and blue plaid one - Dean stands in front of the full length mirror that hangs on the back of the closet door. He flattens his hair down until it’s neat, then decides to run his fingers through it to spike it up. There’s a few days stubble on his jaw, but he he’s not sure if he really has time to shave. This is kind of short notice. 

Pacing out of the bedroom to grab a duffel in the utility closet by the front door of their small apartment, the old wood floors creak under foot. Back and forth between the bedroom and front door, Dean gets his duffel ready with a spare change of clothes and some supplies, then forgets his phone in the bedroom, then goes to put his shoes on without having gotten socks. 

“Babe, you have everything. And if you don’t, it’s fine. The pacing is distracting.”

Cassie isn’t even looking up from the thick book she’s buried in, toes tucked under her where she sits on the couch reading. 

“Yeah, sorry.” 

Dean stops, pats down his pockets, pulls on the socks he got. 

“I thought their babysitter didn’t work during the week?”

Cassie has paused her reading, looking up now. There’s a brown cashmere blanket wrapped around her shoulders, glass of wine on the coffee table with a box of those fancy seed crackers she likes.

“Kelly? Yeah, Hannah said she doesn’t babysit for them anymore, grades slipped and her parents don’t want her working. They’ve got someone new, Maddy I think, she works during the week.”

“Oh so that’s what’s with the last minute thing.”

“Uh-huh. Cas is going to some art gallery opening with a friend.”

Boots laced up, Dean pulls on his jacket and crosses the living room. Standing in front of Cassie, he bends over and kisses the top of her head. She’s back to having her nose buried in her book, but tilts her head to the side. Dean kisses her cheek, and her ear, and her neck - bracing his hands on the back of the couch as he goes lower.

“Go on, shoo. You’re distracting me.”

“Mmm. Have a good date night with your book.”

“You know I will.”

“Don’t stay up all night, you get to bed on time.”

Cassie looks up at that, rolling her eyes, “Yes, Mom,” but she tilts her head up for a kiss on the lips. 

“I’m serious, don’t go to work on an hour of sleep.”

“You’re the one who’s going to be getting his ass reamed all night and you’ve got work tomorrow too.”

Huffing, still close enough to peck a few more kisses across her cheeks, Dean grouses, “Leave my ass out of it.”

Sliding his hands over her shoulders as he stands, Dean scoots sideways from between the couch and the coffee table. 

“Are you staying out all night?” Cassie asks.

“Not sure. I’ll text you.”

Picking up his duffel bag, Dean pats down his pockets again.

“Have fun,” Cassie tells him, nose buried in her book again.

-

There are a few sleazy motels on the outskirts of town and Dean kind of likes the dirty vibe that they give him, but Hannah prefers the Holiday Inn that sits off the highway to the North. It’s practical, clean, non-descript. Every room looks the same and Dean doesn’t mind actually parking his bare ass on the turned down sheets - no bring-your-own-towel adventure required. It’s not the fanciest joint in town, and Hannah actually could afford the Sheraton by the river if she wanted, but the Holiday Inn suits their needs just fine. 

Dean’s already kicked off his shoes, hung his jacket off the back of the desk chair in the narrow entryway, folded the floral comforter and set it on the desk. He likes to get there early. Even if they get a night together out of the blue, like tonight, Dean makes sure he has extra time in his schedule to be there before Hannah. She always has it paid for and booked. 

Shimmying out of his jeans, Dean digs around in his duffel for the single-use enema box. It’s not like Hannah asks him to, but Dean likes feeling clean. Ready. Presentable. It’s like, a courtesy enema. It’s just polite to the person putting things in your butt. 

He gets hard, and ignores it, and pulls his jeans back on after he’s cleaned up to sprawl on the bed and flip on the tv. Hannah’s running late, which isn’t usually her style, but having a kid makes life unpredictable. 

Dean’s debating whether he wants to dish out for the pay-per-view, or just watch a little porn on his phone, when he hears a room card clicking in the door lock. 

The door isn’t even shut behind Hannah when she says, “Sorry I’m late. Running through the routine with Maddy took longer than expected.”

Dean sits up and scoots to the edge of the bed, “Everything’s fine right?”

“Yes. Good.”

Hannah sets her heels neatly by the door, and pulls a hanger down from the small rack next to it, actually hanging up her jacket. Her own toy-bag gets set next to Dean’s on the desk. She’s still got an air of frazzled hurry. 

When she turns around to face Dean, coming to stand a foot in front of him and unbuttoning her shirt, Hannah tells him, “Strip.”

Straight to the point. It might be her style, but it’s not Dean’s. So instead he stands up, puts his hands over hers and draws them away, unbuttons her shirt more slowly. “Relax sweetheart. We got time.”

Hannah takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a second, and Dean can tell that she listens when her shoulders droop slightly and she sways towards him. There’s a sharp focus in her bright eyes when she opens them again. Dean pauses, fingers brushing past the edge of her shirt over the swell of her cleavage. 

She has to look up to look at Dean but that doesn’t make her any less intimidating. 

“When I tell you to strip, you will strip.”

Grinning, Dean holds his hands up in the ‘I surrender’ position before moving them to his jeans. “Yes, m’am.”

The corners of her lips twitch up as Hannah tries not to look as obviously charmed by Dean as she must be. But she goes back to the desk at the entryway, takes Dean’s jacket off the chair and hangs it on a hanger, then drags the chair to wall opposite Dean. He’s got his jeans open, hanging on his hips, hands slowly dragging the hem of his black t-shirt up and down teasingly as Hannah gets situated. 

“Slowly,” she tells him.

Dean winks at her. He’s good at this. Shakes his hips a little so his jeans slide lower, not too loose to fall off, enough to show off the pretty pale yellow cotton panties with the blue-rose pattern. Hannah crosses one leg over the other, shrugs out of her unbuttoned shirt. Most of her underwear is white and plain, but there’s a tiny pink bow on her bra between her cleavage today. Dean doesn’t mind staring at it as he pulls his shirt up, makes an exaggerated long stretch to reach his arms up and cross them behind his head, pull his stomach in tight and roll his hips as he yanks the shirt over his head. 

Hannah doesn’t have a lot of physical tells for her thoughts, but Dean can fucking feel her attention. His skin prickles as he tosses the shirt in the corner, slides his fingers under the waist of his jeans and draws them back to cup his ass. It’s a damn fine ass. Turning sideways to show it off while he can still see Hannah’s face, he pushes his jeans down as he bends over to get his feet through. 

Doing a little circle like a show pony, Dean’s acutely aware that he probably looks more silly than sexy with his hairy, bowed legs and the pudge determinedly gaining ground at his middle, but his dick is still plumping at the suggestion of promised attention, and damn if he doesn’t feel fucking tasty when he gets back face to face with Hannah and she’s got a hand in her pants. 

“On the bed. On your stomach.”

“Yes m’am.” 

Dean flops on the bed enthusiastically, bouncing for effect, and crawls up to fold his arms around a pillow. He watches over his shoulder as Hannah strips out of her pants, then folds them and her shirt to set neatly on top of the chair. She rummages around in her own bag for a few things, body blocking them from view, and comes back to Dean with a bottle in each hand. The lube is set on the night stand. The massage oil, Hannah keeps as she kneels on the bed and straddles Dean’s ass. She always uses unscented, plain oil that’s safe to get in places accidentally. 

Tonight is going to be good if she’s getting him primed and relaxed with a massage first.

Rocking his ass up against the heat of her, Dean smushes his face to the pillow and hums. Hannah warms the oil between her palms before spreading it across Dean’s shoulders and down his back. Her hands are firm and steady, knead deep into the muscle and it verges on painful but Dean’s pliant under her.

“Feels good,” he mumbles.

“Yes. Massages generally do.”

Dean huffs a laugh into the pillow and gets the reminder that she doesn’t like to talk much. But he hums as she strokes broad swipes downward, and groans when she curls her hands into fists and knuckles at tender spots. Reaching down, Dean gets his cock out of his panties to a more comfortable angle, hard and pressed between his belly and the stiff-washed sheets.

Leaving his back fully tenderized, and Dean in a daze, Hannah moves lower to rub little circles over his thighs. The skin warms and tingles under her touch, and Dean can’t help pushing his ass up just a little, silently begging for her to move on to there. 

Instead he gets a slap to one cheek. 

“Weren’t you the one that told me we had plenty of time?” Her tone is playful. “Relax, sweetheart.”

Dean definitely doesn’t whine when Hannah scrapes her nails up his thighs and back, dragging down hard enough she’s gonna leave marks. Teasing under the edge of his panties, Hannah peels them over his ass slowly, scratching and pinching as she goes. 

Confusingly somewhere in between achingly aroused and so relaxed he could fall asleep, Dean drifts as Hannah gets his panties to the tops of his thighs and reaches to the side table for the lube. Her fingers in his ass are just what Dean needs. He’d get on his knees and spread his legs wide for her if he could, but her weight still holds him pinned, strong thighs bracketing him. Lube slick, she sliders her fingers between his legs and presses firmly up and down his perineum before dipping inside.

It would be easy to come from this. Way too easy. Already loose and receptive, totally mellow, Dean squeezes his arms around the pillow and asks, “You want me to hold off?”

“Yes.”

Hannah presses and twists inside, careful with trimmed nails, one hand massaging his ass-cheeks absentmindedly.

“I have something special for you.”

It’s hard to pay attention with her grazing over his prostate.

“You didn’t have to,” Dean mumbles. 

“I know.”

Biting his lip when she works another finger in, Dean tries to keep still so he’s not rubbing his dick on the sheets. He’d come from that, easy peasy.

She takes her time, methodical, focused on Dean. It was kind of hard at first, being with her, when Dean was the focus of attention. He’s better at being the giver when it comes to girls. But Hannah knows what she wants and she’s confident taking it, and Dean kind of likes it now. It kind of feels like being spoiled. 

The reassuring weight and heat of Hannah lifts, and it takes Dean a dazed moment to lift up on an elbow and twist around, watch as she slips her legs into a strap-on harness. The panties and bra are gone now. Back to him at the desk, Hannah tightens the straps with practiced ease and situates her cock in the front.

“I wanted to get something nice for you. We haven’t gotten to see each other for a while, with Lucy starting school, and that nasty flu Cas had. It’s understandable.”

Turning around, there’s a black cock in her harness that Dean is not familiar with. It’s huge. 

“So I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Stepping closer, Hannah stands next to the bed where Dean can get a full view of the thick silicone cock as she spreads lube over it, fidgets with something at the base and a hum starts up noisily. 

Dean definitely whines.

“You’re going to let yourself enjoy it. And you are going to say thank you.”

“Yes m’am.”

Dean drops his chest back down onto the bed, gets his knees under him and lifts his ass up, spreading his legs wide for her to fit in between.

“Thank you, m’am.”

The bed sways as Hannah gets behind him, helps Dean get his panties off, nudges up close behind him running the slick bulbous head of the dildo up the crease of his ass. It vibrates over his skin and Dean reaches a hand down to squeeze his balls painful-tight because he will not come until he gets that inside him. All of it. 

“There’s a polite boy.”

Hannah smooths circles over his hip with one hand, holding the other around the base of her cock as she presses against his asshole. Dean scrunches his toes and holds still, he can feel his ass fucking seizing like it could suck that monster into the vortex. Shit, it has been way too long. 

The stretch aches when the fat heat pops past his rim, strong vibrations making it really hard for Dean not to jerk or slam himself back. He clenches both his hands into the sheets by his shoulders, face smooshed to the mattress, and holds on for dear life. Hannah rocks forward gentle and easy, working into him incrementally and Dean’s got a mouth full of sheets bit between his teeth by the time she’s all the way inside. 

She’s wearing the nice harness, leather and velvet, it’s fucking soft against the massage-warmed skin of his ass as she rolls her hips, driving him wild. Pushing up on his hands, Dean shoves back and starts fucking himself on her cock. 

Hannah slaps him on the ass, hard, and tells him, “Come on, you can do better than that!”

“Ah, shit!”

Dean rolls his hips and bounces back as Hannah gets a solid grip on his waist and bucks into him crazy, loud, bed creaking and Dean’s babbling incoherently. There might be screaming. His arms give out and he’s face first on the mattress again. Hannah curls over him, slams her cock in and humps him jack-rabbit style with the vibrating head so fucking deep his teeth chatter and Dean’s gonna shake apart. Skin hot as she drapes herself on him, soft breasts pressed to his back and long hair tickling his shoulders, Hannah pins him down and fucks him stupid until he screams himself hoarse through his orgasm. 

“Th-th-th…”

Dean babbles as collapses as she pulls out, hands lingering over his skin reassuringly.

“Tha-thank…”

Rolling onto his back and stretching out his legs, belly wet with his come and his skin wet with sweat against the sheets, Dean starts giggling. It’s a post-sex high, he can’t help it.

“Thank you m’am.”

Hannah’s head pops out from where she’s disappeared into the bathroom. She smiles. “You’re welcome.”

“So uh,” Dean grunts when he gets a muscle cramp in his leg, pulls the corner of the sheets up to swipe his belly, “What’c’n I do for you?”

Hannah is digging through her bag, comes back with a wet wash cloth and wipes his cock, between his legs. Dean is too fucked out to give a shit. 

Laying next to him, still naked, Hannah pulls at his wrist. “Just your fingers.”

“Yeah.”

Dean rallies his faded energy for his duty and the etiquette of reciprocal orgasms, heaving up and getting between Hannah’s legs. A lot more energy hums under his skin at the sight of her, face flushed, messy dark hair sprawled around her head, legs open and damn he can feel the heat of her this close.

The little bullet vibrator she’s got now is a lot louder than the dildo, simple, but it’s the only toy she uses when she actually wants an orgasm. Dean drags two fingers lightly up the slit of her pussy, so fucking wet and so pretty pink. Hannah starts rubbing circles on her clit with the toy, and Dean takes his cue to get his fingers inside and get to it. 

She makes the softest breathy noises like this, jerks her hips erratically as she squeezes her eyes closed and focuses. Dean’s instinct is to stroke a hand down her thigh, to kiss her breasts, to do something but he knows she doesn’t want to be distracted. He can learn, and he can follow direction, and if she just wants him to finger her while being otherwise not-present, that’s fine. 

It takes her a while. Dean keeps his movements measured and predictable. Three fingers, curled up inside her. Hannah’s whole body locks up when she comes, jaw clenched, the muscles in her pussy so fucking tight his hand starts to cramp. She rolls through one orgasm into another, panting, hips off the bed as she seizes.

Dean pulls back when she turns the vibrator off and sprawls on the bed. Stretching up along by her and yawning, Dean curls on his side. 

“So, you staying or going?”

Hannah sets the toy on the night stand, and turns onto her side facing him. “Whichever you prefer. Cas will be home by ten to relieve the babysitter. I can stay.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

Dean brushes hair from her forehead, leans forward a little. Hannah actually closes the space, kisses him gently at first, opens to him and presses back. It’s good. 

“Let me just, text Cassie.”

“Say ‘hello’ from me.”

“Sure. Oh, Cassie says hi, did I tell you that.”

“No.”

Dean hums and rolls to the side where his pants are bunched on the floor. Digging through his pockets, he finds his phone. Shooting off a quick text to Cassie, including a ‘hello’ from Hannah, Dean rolls back over and the bed’s empty. The tap in the bathroom is running, and when Hannah comes back she’s wearing pajamas and turning the light off. Dean doesn’t bother with pj’s. His legs probably aren’t working if he wanted to get up now anyway. 

Hannah pulls the sheets back and Dean does his best to scoot where she wants, ending up on his back with Hannah on his chest. Her hair smells kind of floral. Dean still feels a little oily from the massage, but he can shower tomorrow. 

-

They live on a quiet suburban street that’s lined with old oak trees and all the houses look distinctly different from one another but well loved. Dean follows Hannah’s silver mini-van, parks on the street instead of behind her in the drive. There’s already pumpkins lining the front steps to the wide porch, although they’re not carved yet. Trotting up the driveway, Dean follows Hannah to the side entrance.

Hannah had invited him over for breakfast, which would have to be quick because everyone had school and work to get to, but Dean eagerly accepted because it’s been awhile since he’s seen Cas and Lucy. So they’d showered, and Dean had texted Cassie. She’d only replied with an ‘o.k’ but Dean figures she stayed up all night reading and is being cranky, so that’s fine. 

The house is strangely quiet as they take off their shoes in the small mudroom, so Dean passes into the dining room and calls out a ‘Hello!’.

There’s a clatter, and a great scrambling sound, and from upstairs comes tearing a knee-high blur of energy that’s got a pair of leggings half on, one leg trailing behind. The tag is sticking out of her shirt - it’s inside out - and her hair is wild. 

“Hey little lady! Look at you, did you grow another foot since I saw you.”

“Deandeandean,” the n’s on the end of her words are still soft, but she runs around him with her arms waving, “Up! Up!”

Dean hefts her up high enough to blow a raspberry on her belly as Hannah pulls up the hanging side of her leggings. 

Cupping the back of her head gently, Hannah kisses the top of her head and tells her, “Good morning Lucy.”

“Hi mommy.”

Cas is rumpled and half-dressed in the doorway when he sighs and says, “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas.”

Hannah goes over to him, to fuss about his state of appearance too. Dean busies himself jostling the munchkin and tickling her. He loves spending time with Hannah’s family. 

Cassie is firmly on the ‘no’ side of having kids right now, and Dean can’t blame her, their jobs aren’t exactly starting-family material. But it’s nice to have a little princess in his life that he can spoil sometimes. Sam and Jess are busy paying off school loans, climbing the corporate ladder, being a power couple - Dean’s not going to get nieces and nephews out of them anytime soon. 

So he twirls Lucy around in a careful arch while she squeals like a maniac. 

“You want pancakes for breakfast, munchkin?” 

The squealing grows louder and more delighted. 

“I was going to make eggs.” Castiel mumbles as Hannah straightens the tie that was flipped over his shoulder.

Hannah pats him on the arm and kisses his cheek. “Go find your jacket, we’ll get breakfast. Have you put your contacts in yet?”

Cas squints at her and looks into the distance before sighing and turning away muttering to himself.

“Good to see ya Cas! We’ll have breakfast in no time.”

“No time! No time!”

“Are you training to be a parrot?” Hannah asks Lucy.

“Yes!”

Dean has to set her down as they make it into the kitchen, which could have a spot in Better Homes and Gardens if you cleared out the brightly colored toys scattered around. Hannah corrals the munchkin while Dean juggles ingredients and Cas is less squinty when he comes back in and hangs his suit jacket over his briefcase on the peg by the back door. 

It never really ceases to amaze Dean that they’ve folded them into their cozy, private home life like they have. When Cassie told him years ago that she was fine if Dean wanted to have outside relationships when she traveled for work, Dean thought it just meant finding a booty-call. Or being a booty-call. Sure, there were a few of those at first. Then he found Cas. And Dean was so focused on Cas, that he didn’t expect Hannah, her collection of strap-ons, and her quiet air of authority. Or the way that the married couple would want him for a friend, too. 

Now, Dean’s pretty confident in saying they’re some kind of family. Him, Cassie, Cas, Hannah, and Lucy. Hell, he’s even introduced them to Sam and Jess. 

-

Dean’s swagger may be a little extra-bow-legged, but there is definitely some extra something else in it. He might be a little sore and a little tired, but the morning at work flew by after pancakes with Cas, Hannah and Lucy. It’s almost two o’clock by the time he begs a long lunch from his boss, and hoofs it the few blocks to the old brick building where the newspaper is run. Dean smiles at the girl at the reception desk, and she waves him back into the private offices. He’s a familiar face around here. 

Cassie is nursing a cup of coffee and scowling at her computer when Dean finds her. He raps his knuckles on the edge of her cubicle. 

“Morning. You take lunch yet?”

Cassie pushes away from her desk and groans, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes. “No.”

“You get any sleep last night?”

“A few hours.”

“Finish your book?”

“Almost.”

Standing, Cassie grabs her jacket and snags the front of Dean’s shirt, giving him a quick kiss before moving past him. Dean follows. 

“So, the deli?” She asks.

“Is there anywhere else?”

Just down the block from the building, on the corner, is the best goddam deli Dean has ever been in. It was where he first met Cassie. What can he say, he’s a sucker for good corned beef and pretty brown eyes. 

It’s sunny and warm out for autumn, a bit breezy, but it’s nice. Halloween decorations have started popping up in storefront windows. Cassie gets a hand in the back pocket of Dean’s jeans as they get to the deli and wait in line. There’s always a line, but at the least the lunch rush has passed. 

“So how’s Lucy liking kindergarten?” Cassie asks. 

Dean slings an arm around her shoulder as they shuffle forward slowly. “Far as I can tell, kid is rocking it. What’s not to love about making macaroni art all day?”

“Bet Cas and Hannah are having fun with that.”

“Cas is a wreck.”

“Still not over the feeling that he’s leaving her with strangers, huh.” Cassie notes, sympathetic.

“Something like that. “

Placing their orders, Cassie leaves him to pay, and finds a table for them. Settling down with mountainous sandwiches, the sun warm on his face and the busy deli ceaselessly noisy around them, they eat in mostly silence. Cassie only finishes off half of her sandwich, before wrapping the other half in the tray liner and putting it in a to-go box she requested ahead. 

“Hey, do you think they’ll want to do something for Halloween?” She asks. 

“They’re probably gonna do kid stuff with Lucy,” Dean makes sure to swallow his food before talking. Cassie broke him of that habit fast.

“Yeah,” She rests her chin on her hand, angling sideways to watch the traffic out the window. Dean loves the way her curly hair looks in the sun. “What about a barbeque, before the weather gets too cold?”

Dean grunts as he polishes off his sandwich, taking a gulp of water before telling her, “You always have the best ideas.”

“I know.”

Cassie smiles and sips her iced-tea. They should head back soon. But Dean’s so full on this feeling that he’s got more than he deserves, he figures that a minute to take it in is fine. 

“What are you staring at?” Cassie brushes a napkin over her lip like maybe Dean’s staring because she’s got something on her face. 

“Just the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It sounded awful in his head too, but Dean says it anyway. Half serious - he should let her know these things - but jokingly. When Cassie stands, she smacks him lightly on the arm. 

“Don’t go getting sentimental on me, Winchester.”

“Never.”

Dean carries her left-overs back to the office for her. Kisses her at the door. He texts Cas to see if the guy’s working any weekends and if they want to do a barbeque. 

Then it’s back to work, and Dean thinks that he could do this for years.


End file.
